


The shape of the wind

by thescreamingfox



Category: Original Work
Genre: Drabble, Fantasy, Might write more, not sure, origional work
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-08
Updated: 2017-02-08
Packaged: 2018-09-22 19:05:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9621461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescreamingfox/pseuds/thescreamingfox
Summary: Just a short little story about someone's interactions with the wind.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey this is just me trying my hand at writing. I tried to make the main character as ambiguous as possible so that way you could imagine them any way you want. Let me know what you think!

Did you know that the winds can take form? From what I understand they look different to everyone, but to me they look like animals. The soft rustling winds take the shape of fleet-footed mice as they run through the tall grass. The low howling winds are a pack of wolves signaling a hunt. The sharp screeching wind, the one that is so fast it cuts you to the bone is a hawk reigning supreme in the skies.

Though my favorites are the ones that come with thunderstorms. Those winds are powerful horses; so strong that sometimes you can grab on and ride them. That is what I am trying to do now. A huge storm is on its way promising some fierce wild winds. I crouch down in a field as the winds of mice scatter to make way for stronger forces. I hear the stomping of hundreds of hooves; my muscles tense, they are coming. A couple smaller horses race through the brush near me but I pay them no mind, only the biggest and strongest are worth riding.

Soon I hear what I’ve been waiting for, the thundering sound off the strongest winds. I leap forward and grasp onto the closest one. The force and speed form the wind alone almost cause me to let go, my arms screaming in protest. But I hang on and soon I am being tossed around like a ragdoll; the winds do not like being caught. The wind I hold on to gallops straight up while trying to buck me off. It takes all my strength but I am barely able to hang on. When we reach as high as we can go, there is a moment of stillness and lightning flashes. It seems like the whole world is illuminated with that flash. 

Time seems to halt and I take in the world below me. Then time seems to start again and the wind plummets downward all while trying to throw me off again. We go so fast that I have difficulties getting air into my lungs. As we near the ground I start to black out. My grip loosens and I begin to freefall. I am able to keep just enough awareness to position myself so I can roll when I hit the ground so I am less likely to get hurt. I roll for a few feet after I land and when I stop I immediately suck in air and begin coughing. When my breathing evens out I check myself for wounds. A few scrapes but nothing serious. I fall back and look up at the sky and laugh as the rain pours down onto me. I can’t wait for the next storm.


End file.
